


hold my drink

by vivevoce



Series: could've gone worse [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: DJ Otabek Altin, Fluff, Gratuitous EDM, Humor, M/M, Mentions of Homophobia and Xenophobia, One Really Big Fuck Up, Skype Dates with Yuuri, Yuri Could Start His Own Fight Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10061552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivevoce/pseuds/vivevoce
Summary: “How do you feel about going to a club next weekend,” Otabek asks. Yuri can already tell that this is something important, by how casually he says it. Either Otabek’s gotten more transparent over the years or living together has finally made Yuri an expert on reading him.“Alright,” Yuri agrees and watches Otabek slump in relief. “Who’s playing at the venue?”Otabek hands him the flyer, and Yuri barely has time to read the top before Otabek answers, “Me.”Yuri grins.





	

**Author's Note:**

> kubo: otabek is a dj  
> everyone in the fandom who listens to edm: this is it. this is our chance to shine
> 
> links will be embedded in the story 
> 
> (though it can be read without them, if either edm or my taste in jams isn't quite your cup of tea ♡)
> 
> also i am sorry, i keep doing this thing where i try to write Fluff and accidentally slip in some Sad and Serious halfway through. i just wanted an excuse to write yuri tough-as-nails plisetsky fighting someone, damn

“Why is your boyfriend so _expensive_?” Yuuri mutters in awe. A link pops up on Yuri’s chatbox. “A 4-channel Serato is $1700!”

“Never said I was getting him a professional controller, Katsudon,” Yuri answers distractedly, scrolling through some DJ forums. “Also, that's funny, coming from the guy whose husband dresses exclusively in Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent.”

“Fine, be a smart ass,” Yuuri rolls his eyes, which is how Yuri knows he's won. “I'll look at the Traktors.”

“I'm already on their page.” Though, shiiiit. “No wonder Otabek just sighs and exits the tab when I catch him looking at equipment.”

“What does he normally use?” Yuuri asks, and Yuri spares a minute to enlarge his chat window. Yuuri’s face pops up full-size, sipping on a pouch of Calpico. It must be hot in Hasetsu.

“He mostly mixes using software on his laptop. He's never owned a controller before.”

“Oh, I see.” Considering how much coaching fees, bike maintenance, and the cost of living alone come out to, DJ-ing is a bit self-indulgent for a hobby. Otabek would never splurge, but Yuri knows how important it is to have the right tools. Even he can tell that Otabek is too good to stay on his laptop forever.

“I'm debating between an all in one controller or a CDJ…” Yuri bites his lip, scrolling through the advice forums. “Pioneers are good… Depends on if he’s planning on playing clubs or not.”

“Have you asked him?”

“Can't figure out a subtle way to do it.”

Almost as if on cue, a call comes in over Skype. Yuuri good naturedly rolls his eyes at the blooping, bubbly ring-tone. “Looks like that's my cue to go. Good luck, Yurio.”

“Not my name, Katsudon,” Yuri snorts, mouth twitching.

“Yeah, yeah. Good night. Or, I guess, good morning?”

“It's 3 a.m in Moscow,” Yuri yawns, grateful he didn't have practice in the morning. “Go eat breakfast.”

“Alright,” Yuuri laughs gently. “ _Oyasumi._ ”

_“Dobroye utro.”_

Yuri fixes the most innocent look he can on his face as Yuuri ends their call. Otabek’s face pops up on the screen.

“Wow, you actually picked up.” Otabek teases, toweling his hair.

“Duh. Told you I’d be up.” Yuri resettles under his comforter. “I thought you'd fallen asleep on me. Practice ended late?”

“Nah, had to do some laundry and meal prep. Sorry I'm late.” He looks exhausted.

Yuri sinks into his bed, pillow under his cheek. He smiles. “It’s fine. Tell me about your day.”

 

::

 

Yuri has Otabek FaceTime him a few months later when the delivery arrives. Otabek opens it and immediately drops his phone.

 _“Holy shit,”_ Yuri hears through carpet muffled speakers.

 

::

 

“How do you feel about going to a club next weekend,” Otabek asks. Yuri can already tell that this is something important, by how casually he says it. Either Otabek’s gotten more transparent over the years or living together has finally made Yuri an expert on reading him.

“Alright,” Yuri agrees and watches Otabek slump in relief. “Who’s playing at the venue?”

Otabek hands him the flyer, and Yuri barely has time to read the top before Otabek answers, “Me.”

Yuri grins.

 

::

 

“I changed my mind,” Otabek says calmly, as he watches the DJ before them play his set. Some people are getting into it but most are ignoring it. The guy isn't bad, just a little repetitive.

“You’re not bitching out of this.”

“Watch me.”

“ _Beka_.”

Otabek is panicking in his usual quiet, Otabek way. “I've only ever DJ’d for you and my friends.”

“And we love it,” Yuri says in exasperation. “You know what you're doing.”

“I don't.” The first guy’s set is ending soon. The next 45 minutes are Otabek’s.

Yuri has to squeeze his biceps to get him to focus. “You can do this. _Fuck it._ Don't think about what they're going to say.”

After taking slow, calming breaths Otabek regains his dry sense of humor. “If I'm terrible, we’re never coming back here again.”

“Sure,” Yuri agrees with the confidence of someone who’ll never have to uphold his promise.

The set ends. Otabek blanches. “I need some shots.”

“Buy me one for good luck.”

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are, Yura,” but of course Otabek does it anyways.

 

::

 

Yuri watches him connect his laptop and familiarize himself with the controller. There's some filler music playing while he gets set up, and Yuri rolls the ice cubes around in his drink before finishing off the last of it.

He can tell it's Otabek playing by the [next beat](https://youtu.be/GmZ9Lv1UE4Y). The atmosphere just changes. Otabek is subtle, and the vocals are smooth and dreamy at first. Some trance elements wind themselves in as it builds, steadily picking up, and everyone's noticed the change in DJ’s by now. Especially when the visual displays flash up with Otabek’s logo. Yuri grins at what Otabek’s graphic designer cousin came up with. DJ Dark Horse suits him.

The music gets more intense, building up to the first drop. Yuri sets his drink aside, and starts to dance. He’s not the only one. Otabek makes direct eye contact with him right before he lets it drop.

Yuri thinks of the clean twist of Otabek’s body coming out of a quad Salchow, muscles contracting and releasing for impact, ice chips showering in his wake. He compares that to seeing Otabek disappear and reappear in flashes of ultramarine, purple, and fuschia light; beats coming down hard all around him like shards breaking apart. People are jumping and the energy is _amazing_. Anyone who knows the chorus is shouting along. Yuri isn’t surprised. Otabek doesn’t smile, but he doesn't need to. He's focused and lit up and _alive,_ entirely in his element the way he is when he skates. Yuri smiles wide enough for both of them. He loves seeing him like this.

 

::

 

Otabek has a good read on the vibe as he continues hyping them up, keeping the energy intense. The transition into his next song is [seamless](https://youtu.be/FymrgP3Dci4), and Yuri recognizes it as one of his favorites. How romantic.

“Holy fuck, this song makes me wanna  _FIGHT_ somebody!” Yuri hears a girl tell her friend and he laughs. Otabek has mixed it to be slightly less wild, but it's still got an undercurrent of black lightning to it; every so often it sounds like the air is _glitching,_ tearing itself apart. The rapid drum beats escalate, fading in and out, and _wow_ Yuri likes this remix. Whoever wasn't on the dance floor before definitely is now. Unfortunately, that also means all the assholes are coming out.

“The FUCK??? Who’s PLAYING this shit?”

The fact the guy is loud enough for Yuri to hear it over the music is saying something.

 _Don't react, Yuri. Don't… react._ _There's always people talking shit at shows._ He steals a glance and there's two of them. Yuri recognizes the type, unfortunately. Even as he watches, one of them accidentally knocks a girl's drink out of her hand while dancing. At the same time, his even drunker friend bowls into a group, causing a ripple as everyone staggers from the sudden push. Jesus Christ. People immediately around them look pissed, but must be waiting for security to deal with it.

Yuri's about to try and go back to dancing when he hears, “Seriously, whose DICK did he have to suck to get up there?”

Yuri snaps before he can even think about it.

The guy flails when Yuri grabs him by the arm, before trying to shove him off. “Hey, fuck off! Who do you think you are!?”

“Security,” Yuri lies, but he sounds serious enough (or maybe the guy’s just wasted enough) for him to get away with it. “You're coming with me.” He sizes Yuri up, realizes Yuri is 6 feet tall with a grip like a vice, and relents. Yuri grabs the other one and hauls him out towards the entrance as well.

He just nods at the grateful looks he gets when they pass by.

 

::

 

Yuri really had only thought as far as getting them out of the club so he could go back to Otabek's set, but before security could take them off his hands, one of them slurs out something that makes Yuri stop, incredulous and deadly.

“What did you just say?”

The guy repeats it, liking the rise it got out of Yuri. “Why, what's it to you?”

Yuri’s no stranger to homophobia, but he forgets xenophobia is ugly and still has its claws deep in Russia.

“Repeat that one more time and I'm breaking your jaw,” Yuri hisses, finally pushed too far. Otabek is fucking off limits.

Of course that means the other guy focuses two bleary eyes on him and says it even more slowly. “Why? He doesn't belong here anyway.”

 

::

 

Yuri and Otabek took an MMA class together once, for fun. It was there that Yuri learned Otabek’s hits could send him _skidding,_ even with the punching bag between them.He learns that Otabek is stronger than him, more efficient, more cautious.

He also learns that between the two of them, Yuri is the brawler. Yuri has the right mindset for it, knows where to find openings and how to ruthlessly exploit them. The instructor had called him a natural. So does Otabek, after Yuri all but throws him to the ground, forearm braced against his throat. He doesn't tell them that only some of it's instinct. The rest is experience.

 

::

 

Otabek finishes his set, exhilarated, and clears the booth for the next DJ to set up.

“Hey man, that was intense,” Otabek hears as he switches. Otabek grins. “Set the bar sky-high, that's for sure.”

Otabek thanks him and looks for Yuri. He’d lost Yuri in the crowd a while ago, but scans the club now, anxious to hear what his boyfriend had to say. Only, Otabek doesn't see him anywhere... but it _had_ gotten a lot more packed since he started. He pulls out his phone, about to text Yuri.

Otabek freezes at the messages on his lock screen.

 

::

 

The door slams when Otabek opens it and that's how Yuri knows he’s _pissed._

“I can explain,” Yuri begins, but Otabek is already across the room, hands settling immediately on Yuri’s split lip. His hands are shaking.

“Did you even see any of my set?” Otabek asks, and guilt twists in Yuri’s stomach like a living thing. He fucked up.

“I saw the beginning of it,” and Otabek's hands drop. Yuri watches his nails clench tightly into his palms. “Beka…”

“Don’t.” Otabek’s voice is sharp and upset. Yuri flinches, ashamed. “I can't even believe you.”

“I…”

“You _what,_ Yuri?” Fuck, Otabek’s voice is rising, he never yells. “Got into a bar fight and _kicked out_ before I even finished? I’d never felt so… The promoter’s _face_ when he told me--Yuri, _WHAT THE FUCK?”_

The way Otabek sounds hurts way more than Yuri’s ribs do at the moment. He pushes his hair out of his face, pleading. “Beka, I'm _sorry--_ ” But Otabek is shaking his head and Yuri is so frustrated he wants to cry. "Hey, just _listen_ to me!”

“For once, just _once,_  you couldn't have held in your temper?”

And that is so patently unfair that Yuri explodes. _“I wasn't fucking letting them talk about you that way!”_

 _“_ Who’s _they?”_ Otabek demands.

“Once upon a time there were two racist and homophobic shitheads,” Yuri deadpans harshly. “They talked shit. They got hit. End of story.”

Otabek does not appreciate the humor. Yuri doesn't break his gaze.

“I'm sorry I missed your set. I'm actually really pissed about that, because it was fucking _amazing_ and I… I really wanted to just... spend the rest of the night with you, dancing and drinking, and I fucked that up and I'm _sorry_.”

“Yuri,” and great, Otabek's gotten past Livid Anger into Scared and Hurt territory. “You look like hell. What _happened?_ ”

Yuri traces his split knuckles with one thumb and shrugs, because smirking hurts his lip. “You should see the other guys.”

“I’m not in the fucking mood right now.”

“Security pulled us apart before any real damage happened. Relax.”

_“Don't tell me to relax when you're bleeding onto the carpet.”_

“Babe,” and Otabek flinches at the softness in his voice. Yuri touches his arm, silently thankful that Otabek lets him. “I'm okay. Really.”

“It was two on one,” and yeah, Yuri knows, he was there. “You could've been ganged up on. This could've ended _badly."_

“You say that like I’ve never been in a fight before,” Yuri answers flatly. “Beka, I'm fine. I knew what I was doing.”

“When the fuck have you been in other fights?”

“I grew up in _Moscow_ and I did _ballet!_ You really think I've never been in fights?”

Otabek goes absolutely still. _“Shit,”_ he finally breathes raggedly.

“Oh god.” Yuri wants to reach back in time and punch himself in the face. Sure, unveil his childhood past of getting bullied while his boyfriend is frantic about him getting beat up, why not? Yuri is an _idiot._ “Oh god pleasebabedon'tcry. _I didn't mean that.”_

Except he did, and Otabek knows, and shit shit shit. Yuri pulls Otabek down onto the couch with him and ignores the dull pain. This is more important. Otabek carefully pulls Yuri into his chest and Yuri closes his eyes.

“I can take care of myself. Trust me. I’m okay.”

“Don't ever do that again.” There is a beat of guilty silence. “ _Fucking promise me, Yuri.”_

“I mean, I can't promise I won't take a swing.”

“At least _wait_ for when I'm there to back you up?”

“Honestly, they were so drunk it was kind of embarrassing. I didn't exactly need back up.”

Otabek holds Yuri’s knuckles up to eye level, before pressing inspecting fingers to his temples. He checks for damage on the rest of Yuri’s body, and Yuri lets him, only hissing minimally when Otabek presses into his ribs.

“They still got a few good hits in.”

“Only because one of them fell onto me and pushed us both off the curb. And then threw up. I had to help them into an Uber, let's not talk about it.”

“You helped them… into an Uber… after beating the shit out of them.” Otabek pauses. “Why?”

Yuri blinks. “Because it was the right thing to do?”

“... You are unbelievable.”

“So I've been told.”

“... the bouncers outside were impressed,” Otabek admits grudgingly after another stretch of silence. “They said they've never seen anyone kick that high before.”

Yuri starts laughing, ignoring the pain in his lip. After a while, Otabek grudgingly leans his head back against the couch. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Keep me?” Yuri asks in a small voice. “And DJ there again so I can see it? Everyone loved you.”

Otabek turns to look at him. “You think so?”

“Don't be modest. Of course they did.” Yuri sighs. “I really _really_ wish I could've seen the rest of that set. You were incredible up there.”

“You're literally only saying that because you're in trouble.”

“I know. I am. Still couldn't take my eyes off you though.”

“You…” Yuri smiles with the uninjured side of his mouth. “I'm going to get you a pack of ice for your mouth. And then we're getting you cleaned up. And then we are going to bed.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Otabek leans into Yuri, arm protectively curved around his shoulders. “Please,” he whispers. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I won't,” Yuri replies softly.

**Author's Note:**

> when i think of Otabek's style, i picture:
> 
> \- Adventure Club's EP (specifically Thunderclap and Crash, but Wonder when he's missing Yuri or feeling sentimental)  
> \- older Seven Lions (their radio edit of Cusp or The Fall ft Xilent... Higher Love is from this year)  
> \- the extended version of Duke Dumont's Ocean Drive (which Otabek probably played while Yuri was busy kicking ass outside)
> 
> if anyone likes edm or likes fighting (aikido, kick boxing, MMA, krav maga, anything really!) nerd out with me in the comments below


End file.
